Rejections, Runways And Robbery
by VML99
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy. Pureblood. Squib. Yes, that little final fact right there is the damage I did to my father's ego.


Scorpius Malfoy. Pureblood. Squib.

Yes, that little final fact right there is the damage I did to my father's ego. Expected to be a subject of pride, the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune, I turned out to be the reason for perpetual disappointment. The son of Draco Malfoy, the ultimate prodigy. Expectations. Achievements. It was all anticipated out of me.

I was the hardest blow fate could bestow upon my father's self esteem. How was he expected to move in society? He was ashamed of me beyond compare. Who would have thought, that I'd stain the Malfoy name this badly? What was he supposed to refer to me as? Scorpius Malfoy, the squib?

And so, naturally, my father made sure that he would have nothing to do with me. He wanted another child, another pureblood to follow his aristocracy, one that would restore the honour lost at my birth that my father took years to create. But fate wasn't done playing with my father's ego, turns out, my mother couldn't have another child, she was too weak after having me, my birth had strained not just my parent's marriage but my mother's health permanently too.

Unaware of the concept of a happy family life, my mother sent me to a muggle boarding school, because, in all honesty, I was of the same worth as a muggle, in hopes that I excel in something. Yeah right, like father would ever want to see my face. I joined St. Anthony's when I was twelve. Of course, it took me time to adjust to a muggle lifestyle to really go and live as one. So the following year, after my 11th birthday, when no letter from Hogwarts was delivered to the Manor, confirming my lack of magical abilities truly, by mother hired Ms. Celica Holmes as my tutor, she was a muggleborn witch. Father would often scowl at her when passing by the study, until an expression of total resignation would grace his pointy features. He would scowl even more when he'd read the Weasley name and Hogwarts in The Daily Prophet or hear stories of their fame from any of his business associates. He was still in competition. According to mother, he was still seventeen.

Hesitant and scared of what more fate had in store for me, I pushed open those iron gates for the first time, my mother stood there by the car (a muggle contraption for transportation) waving at me enthusiastically, prompting me forward into the building that would mould my future. Here, no one would stop and greet me for the surname I carried, no special treatment, no royal contribute. In fact, my name quickly caught on for its oddity and unusualness. Scorpion Pale-boy, they would call me. A joke I never was able to comprehend.

As my teenage years approached, my reputation underwent a drastic change. Suddenly, I was the hot favourite topic of discussion amongst all my female peers. I went around breaking hearts as if that would earn me more morale. Which, it did. And the fact that I joined the Football team and played and won on state level might be an added bonus. But I soon realized that that wasn't what I wanted out of life.

And so here I am, standing in Jonah's studio, as the most well-known name of international fashion runways. Rejected for his inabilities and lack of contribute to what truly could have been _MY_ world, I created one for myself, twenty- seven and never been serious in any relation that wasn't business to me. Magazines named me as the hottest celebrity alive. I was almost always rated as the number-one 'it' thing. I had my fair share of screaming fan-girls following me, _boy that was always fun._

And that is why I felt uncomfortable with the fact that this girl fluttering around me in a maroon cotton skirt and a white tuck-in blouse, right now, was not even a tad bit nervous about being in this close propinquity to me.

'32"' , she said out loud to no one in particular and noted down the size of my waist. I stood before her in my awkward position with my arms open in an eagle spread. She ducked under my arm and went to stand behind me, measuring the length of my shoulder blades, pushing my arms down to my sides. I huffed my chest out a little bit, earning a warning from her to stand still. No hesitation, _again._

 _Why is Jonah enjoying this? Smirking from behind his desk? Why is this girl coming across to me as intimidating?_ She should be worshiping me at my feet, instead of standing up to me and wrapping the measuring tape around my collar to note my size on her little yellow note pad. She wasn't nervous, she did not falter at her footing before me. She was tall, came just a head below me. She made a final note on the paper and declared, 'Done.', looking up to me and giving me the briefest of smiles, and that's when I went brain storming, I had seen her before, but where I couldn't recall.

She made her way over to Jonah's desk, who was now out of his seat and stood at the foot of it, addressing me in his usually cheery manner.

'Thank you Scor, for your time. It's always lovely having you around.'

I gave him one of my signature smiles disregarding him as his cell phone rang, (cell phone is another muggle contraption for communication purposes) making my way over to the girl instead. Jonah had told me that she was his new assistant, Jennifer Pierce, who was now scribbling furiously into another writing pad, this one larger in size.

I leaned before on the desk she was seated at, placing both palms face down on the table top.

'I think I've seen you somewhere.' I said.

No response. _Well, that's a new one._

Somewhat embarrassed at the lack of attention I attained from her, I cleared my throat loudly, repeating myself louder this time.

'I think I've seen you somewhere.'

She looked up to meet my gaze, her simplicity struck me as opposed to the mask of makeup I'd become used to looking at when observing a girl's face this closely.

'Are you talking me to?' she asked, her shock evident at the fact that I was addressing her. _Now, that's more like it._

'Do you see anyone else around?'

She blushed at my comment, the pink colouring her cheeks innocently. Her eyes drifted over to Jonah at the other end of the room, still occupied by the phone call.

'No, but you're Scorpius Malfoy and I'm an assistant, not even the designer herself, it doesn't make sense why YOU'D want to talk to me.'

'Makes enough sense to me. Last time I checked, people don't charge others for making conversation. '

'So you'd only talk to someone if it's free of cost?' She inquired, and I was a bit lost, no witty comment came to me. Why couldn't she be one of those dumb, blonde assistants? Damn, she's clever. Why hasn't she asked for an autograph as yet or even a picture?

She scrutinized me for a while, and I observed her appearance, tall, blonde, simple, no makeup, no jewelry, apart from a delicate little silver star-shaped pendant dangling around her fragile neck.

And that's when, perching myself at the edge of the desk, staring at the pendant I bluntly asked her,

'Are you gay?'

Disbelief, right there, graces her sharp, prominent features. _Finally._

'What makes you think that?'

'Well, I mean, here you are, working her Jonah…'

'What's wrong with Jonah?' she added abruptly, in attempts of cutting me off.

'Helping him design formal male attire.' I finished, raising an eyebrow.

'From where I'm standing, it's the best job a STRAIGHT girl could hope for' she said, standing up, clearing her desk of her writing material 'feeling up the hottest males for money, should be worth it.'

'Is that how desperate you are?' I called after her as she walked away.

'Yes, but for the money.' She replied, turning around, her hair swinging about with her actions.

'Not all of us become rich and famous at seventeen Malfoy, some of us actually have to pay for college.'

'I wasn't exactly rich at seventeen.' I replied coldly, beside, _what the hell did she know about me._

'Thank you for your time Mr. Malfoy, please re-visit in a week's time for your final fitting. Any change of plans, if any, will be informed to you accordingly. '

 _What is that sound? Is the world ending? That siren! That shrill! Ahhh! Stop it! Is it a mad woman screeching in my ears, but I don't remember bringing anyone to my bed last night. So technically, no one should be with me. Yeah, no slimy skinny arms touching my bare torso, no scrawny legs brushing against mine._

Begrudgingly I pushed my wild, random thoughts away to rub my eyes open to find the culprit of the source of noise.

 _My cell phone._

I punched in the answer key, talking sleepily into the speaker,

'Hello..'

'Umm…' replied a timid voice from the other end, 'Mr. Malfoy?'

'Ahh.. Yes. Speaking. '

I sat up in bed, yawning, feeling the fatigue leave my mind, finally awake and aware of my surroundings, yes, in my bed, alone and still a little drunk maybe.

'This is Jennifer Pierce, Jonah Wilde's assistant. Your suits are ready. If you could come in today for one final fitting, it'll be appreciated. We like to avoid any last minute hazards.'

I scratched the back of my head as I sat up in bed, feeling the headache grow in my temples. _Yup, definitely hungover. Damn those parties._

'Is it absolutely necessary for me to come in today?'

'We'd highly appreciate it if you could come in today.'

'Alright,' I said. A glimpse at the clock tells me its 11:30 a.m. 'but it'll take me at least half an hour.'

'Oh. That's not a problem; we're open till 8 today.'

'Is the collar alright? '

'Yes.'

'Trouser length? '

'Yes.'

'Your blazer.'

I held my arms for her to slip the blazer on; Jennifer stood behind me, peering at the mirror from behind my shoulder, her eyes shining with unknown amusement, meeting mine in the mirror for a split second until her gaze fell over my shoulders, dusting off the blazer and I busied myself with buttoning it from the front satisfied with my reflection. I kept scanning my memory in hopes for detecting how I'd ever known her, where I'd seen her, but found none. I suddenly recalled our last conversation and made to correct her attitude.

'Oh. And by the way, I wasn't rich and famous at seventeen.' I turned around to face her, staring at her reflection instead felt surreal. 'Life is not that easy for anyone, not even me.'

She stared right at me, her face giving nothing away, _another first._ She gave me a brief nod until her eyes drifted away; I bit glassy, as if her mind was occupied with some other significant thought.

 _Another thought? In my presence? There's got to be something wrong with this girl._

I stood back stage, awaiting my queue music. I turned around to glance at Jennifer, she was standing beside Jonah. She gave me a polite nod.

The hustle and bustle back stage was incomprehensible. Models, makeup artists, designers were busy in show-down, commotion all around. The buzz eternal.

It had been a great turn out, better audience than expected, better media coverage. I heard the fan-girl hooting, applaud all around, flashes everywhere.

Needless to say, as mega the event was, the after-party was so much more magnificent in comparison, awaiting its commencement. I spotted Jennifer after a while, in some fitted jeans and a see-through chiffon top. I strangely felt satisfied with her choice of clothing and noticed her making her way to the exit, after checking her phone and slipping it into her purse. I rushed after her, momentarily stopping at a waiter to grab two champagne flutes, a reporter called after me, I ignored her.

I found her again in the sea of faces, I tapped her shoulder.

'Jenny?' I said, a little out of breath.

'Malfoy.' She acknowledged, turning around.

'Leaving so soon? You could surely stay for a while. Have a drink?' I offered her the champagne flute.

'No, thanks. There's somewhere I have to be.'

'Got a boyfriend to go back to?'

'No.' She frowned at the very personal question I demanded off her.

'Great. Means no harm done if I do this.'

I rightfully dropped both the flutes, the glass shattering catching the attention of many. My hands, now cool because of clutching the aforementioned drink that was now spilled around our feet at the floor, grabbed her face between them, as I pressed my lips down upon hers. Anyone in the room that wasn't looking at us previously, now definitely was. I felt several pair of eyes bore holes in the back of my head. A few flashes here and there and whispers about a mystery girl. Her lips were soft, sweet. My hands still held her in place, until a knee-groin kick forced me to withdraw them. Shocked at her actions, I tried my best not to yelp in pain (got a reputation to maintain or whatever I have of it in this world). Damn she was good; she must have some older brother who taught her that. I heard the click of her heels fade as she walked away. Will I see her again? Jonah! _Jonah, my dear best friend, here I come._

 _I was drunk._ I was very drunk, after Pierce's rejection I went and snogged the reporter standing next to me about which I will probably be reading an article on in tomorrow's newspaper. The rest of the night was spend counting the number of drinks I could intake until I forgot how to count, until the music was too loud, until I could not recognize the girl dancing against me.

So, evidently, driving myself home, was a pathetic idea. Its only times like these that I wish I was magical. I felt a little stupid for wishing myself to be magical yet again. Well, a little more than stupid, more being the operative word, given how there isn't anything I could do about being non magical.

I drove around recklessly, gaining speed, adrenaline, until I distantly noticed a figure in the dark and screeched the car to a stop. _Mistake number one._

I blinked in the darkness. _Why are no street lamps on? Why is the road deserted? Where did the figure disappear off to?_

I stepped out of the car. The air smelled of suspicion. _Mistake number two._

I checked to my right, then to my left, the figure was nowhere in sight, as if it had dissolved into the air. I felt a shadow behind me, I turned around swiftly, my reflexes oddly alert even in my drunken state. Again, nothing but immobility filled my vision.

Until a pair of slimy arms wound around me, one around my torso, one around my neck, effectively cutting off my speech. I struggled around in their steel-like grip. Until I finally was in control again. Soon, the unknown, mystic figure and I danced our tango, our footsteps echoing in the stillness in synchrony. Slash, clash, turn, burn. Until I caught hold of her weapons, a wooden stick. I stepped back in alarm, clutching the very-substantial wand in my palms.

I speedily used my free hand to clutch my executer's wrist. It was slim and delicate, deceiving the image of their strength. The figure was petite, to my astonishment, dressed in black completely, from head to toe. I pulled off the mask that sheltered the countenance, ceremonially dropping it onto the road underneath our feet to come face to face with Jennifer Pierce herself, defeat gracing her features.

I struggled for words, unaware of what to say, what to do.

'Who exactly are you?' I inquired.

She stepped out of my grip, dusting off imaginary dust off her clothes, I made sure the wand was still clutched in my hands.

'Are you a thug?'

'Mhhmm.' She hummed in consent, taking off her gloves and stuffing them in the back pocket of her pants.

'So the muggle job is a cover-up?'

'The muggle _life_ is a cover up.' She corrected, looking bored, while I had 'astonished' written all over my face.

I again struggled for words, perplexed at the whole circumstance.

'Why do you have a wa… I mean a wooden stick. Why do you have a wooden stick?'

'Cut the crap Malfoy, I know you know it's a wand.'

She withdrew the wand out of my hand. _Mistake number three._

'Oh come on! You don't need to act so clueless! I know who you are, Mr. Pureblood Squib, I knew it the minute you entered St. Anthony's.' _Another surprise_. 'Nice car by the way.' She said pointedly looking over to my Mercedes.

'Tired of your usual already?' she questioned.

'You know my usual?' I asked, thinking back to my rx8.

'I know more than anyone ever gave me credit for.'

She ran her hands greedily over the smooth shiny metal surface, her eyes covetous.

'I've always wanted one for myself.'

She ran her hands greedily over the smooth shiny metal surface, her eyes covetous. I shook my head, clearing it of all thoughts of her, reinforcing her latest comment and then deciding againt it. So instead I asked,

'You went to St. Anthony's?'

She quirked an eyebrow, smirking.

 _So that's where I remembered her from. Wait is she THE Jennifer? The one that dated Kingsley?_ She took another step forward, her blonde her spilling around her shoulders. 'Surprised Malfoy?' the smirk still intact.

Until she stepped around and walked away, leaving me standing beside my car. I saw her leave.

 _Will I ever see her again? There was something in her that drew me towards her, something that I could not put a finger upon. She was just…_ different _, I guess. As clichéd as these words sounded, I knew they were true. Muggle fashion designer assistant turned thief. Now that isn't something one gets to see every day. Well. Who am I to judge? I'm a pureblood squib._

Like a rider in the night, she strolled away, the distance between us increasing with every step, piquing my curiosity. _Who was this girl?_

I shook my head to clear it of all these thoughts, stuffing my hand into my pocket to grab my keys but nothing came into contact. My fingertips did not meet the cool metal of the car keys. Not texture of the leather that was my wallet. I became frantic, I called after Jennifer, until I heard a crack, and the car and the girl disappeared simultaneously.

 _Another first._

 _A/N : I do not own Mazda Motor Corporation or Mercedes. Though it would have been nice if I did. :P_

 _Hope you liked it. :). And I'd love it if you left a review. :D_


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